


Never Stop Smiling

by spikesgirl58



Category: Man from Uncle - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-30
Updated: 2012-08-30
Packaged: 2017-11-13 05:16:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/499897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spikesgirl58/pseuds/spikesgirl58
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Napoleon makes a simple request.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never Stop Smiling

_Mmm, lazy Sunday afternoons – could it get better?_ Napoleon thought as he stretched. Beside him a lump shifted slightly and mumbled and Napoleon grinned. _Oh yes!_

He snaked his hand under the covers, reaching and finding impossibly soft skin, stretched taut over toned muscles. Slowly and with deliberate care, he began to trace a shape over and over again.

"Napoleon…what are you doing?" The blond head came up from the pillow, hair tousled, eyes still half closed in sleep.

"Me? Nothing?" The fingers never stilled.

"Then you should take care, my friend, as there apparently is a third party in the bed with us."

"Is there now?" He drew a finger up, feeling it travel lightly over ribs. Again he traced a pattern, writing delicate letters with a deliberate forefinger.

"Napoleon, stop." Illya tried to push the hand away, but the sheets got in the way.

"Stop what?" Napoleon pulled back until the touch was as light as a feather and he could feel tremors starting.

"Doing what you're doing." Illya plopped his head back down. "It's distracting…and it tickles. Reminds me of ants."

"Ants?" Napoleon smirked. "And here I was hoping it would remind you of uncles."

Illya chuckled and ran a hand through his hand. "Oh, Napoleon, your puns are worse when you're half asleep."

A delightfully wicked smile possessed Napoleon's lips and he angled himself a bit, bringing up the leg that was half hanging off the edge of the bed. How the Russian could manage to take up so much space on the bed was beyond him. Einstein was right; energy and mass are equivalent and transmutable. Not stilling his one hand, he reached out with the other, finding his target with ease borne of practice.

It always amazed him how wonderfully Illya's penis fit into his hand, how soft and hard it was simultaneously, and how it sent a thrill through him at the merest touch. He started a slow pumping motion while his other hand continued its travels up and down his lover's side. Napoleon rubbed his finger over the tip, smiling at the velvet smooth moisture gathering there. One would think their pursuit of just hours ago hadn't happened. He loved that he could bring Illya to this point so easily again and again.

"Napoleon, stop," Illya gasped through his smile. Obligingly, Napoleon stilled one hand. "Not that one, the other one."

"What other one? That's the third party, remember." He waggled his other hand slightly. "No control over that one. It just wanders…hmm; I wander what it will be up to next?"

Illya groaned, but halfway through the pitch changed as Napoleon replaced his hand and went for a more oral approach. He put his lips and tongue to work and set about driving his lover out of his mind. Napoleon prided himself in just how quickly he could send Illya skyrocketing, crying out his name over and over until it became just one long word and then that delightful moment when words failed.

It also amazed Napoleon how just bringing his lover to a climax, dragged his own body along as well with the merest of touches, he would join Illya on the skyrocket.

He pulled back, studying Illya as his partner raked a hand through ruffled blond hair and panted through a grin. "That was incredible. I wouldn't believe it possible…not after…"

"Mmm, a delightfully heady cock…tail."

"Oh, Napoleon, your puns will surely drive me to drink."

"What can I say? It must be five o'clock somewhere." He surged up for a kiss and was gathered into welcoming arms.

"Thank you." Illya kissed him, soft and warm.

"No, thank you."

"For what?"

"Smiling. I love your smile," Napoleon admitted, drawing a finger down one cheek before tracing a bottom lip. "And making you smile." He was rewarded with a genuine unguarded grin from Illya and it rocked his world and moved his heart. "Never stop smiling, Illya."

"Not until you tell me to."


End file.
